Black Poison
by I know okay
Summary: Harry needs something to live for, will he ever find it? You can read this as HP/DM pre-slash or not slash depending on how you squint. M rating for subject matter.


**Black Poison**

**Summary:**_ Harry needs something to live for, will he ever find it? You can read this as pre-slash or not slash depending on how you want to look at it. HP/DM M rating for subject matter._

Harry Potter knew death, had been bedfellows with it. He'd wallowed in it, been bathed in its blood. His parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Snape, Fred, and so many others had either died for him or because of him. Harry heard the hisses as well during the trials. "You should have killed Voldemort sooner. My-fill-in-the-blank family member or friend-would still be alive today." This particularly irked him as it happened so often. He was young, how did they expect him to fight someone off that strong? Some never took into account that he did end up killing Voldemort in the end, as well as the soul pieces. No one had any idea what that was like and he never wanted them to know. That kind of knowledge in another madman was dangerous. Harry never again wanted another person to go through the things he had. More than this though, Harry knew the quiet peacefulness of death. He came back so Voldemort's end would be assured. Harry, himself, never really wanted to come back to the mortal plane.

Harry acknowledged that there were things that had to be done after the war. He spoke up at the trials, assuring some people would get the proper justice. When it was all over he chose to help rebuild the school. All he was looking for was something to hold onto. He needed something to keep him here or he knew he would choose to leave the world behind.

Hermione kept telling him he had Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. Harry wasn't quite sure what that was, except that it was likely accurate. He also thought many others were going through the same. His was a little different, however. They still hadn't met death in the same way, had never been to the other side and still feared it. Harry very much longed for it.

Having tired of danger, and the words and responsibilities of others he decided he'd had enough. He had nothing to live for, except everyone else's expectations of him. People told him to be an Auror, go back to school, marry Ginny, have lots of strong magical children, and then the requests became even more ridiculous as they wanted a hero he could never be. Aside from love, it was Voldemort's soul that kept him a hero and now it was gone. He didn't want that.

Harry's life was going to be snuffed out tonight by his own hand. He was done with the world. Unlike Voldemort Harry wasn't afraid to die. He'd already walked to his own death willingly because it was the right thing to do. Just as coming back was the right thing. There was nothing left for him now though.

There were several painstakingly handwritten letters to friends and people he considered family all piled in front of him. Harry thought perhaps if he wrote to them and how he would miss them it might show him that death was not the answer today. There was no such reprieve for him. It only confirmed that he didn't have anything to live for anymore. His life was over as soon as Voldemort had been defeated.

On the kitchen table there lay Harry's choices of how to end it, how he was going to die. At first he picked up the muggle gun and set it back down. That was too messy and traumatic for people to see that had already been through war, so was the knife. Also, if he came back as a ghost he didn't want to come bloody and messed up. Setting it aside there was poison on the table. Something he had found in the old Black family home. He wasn't surprised to see it there, but he thought they'd probably used it to poison others not themselves. It had promise. A muggle bottle of pills sat there and Harry discarded it as being unreliable. He knew there was a risk of it not working and just having a lot of health problems afterward. Harry picked up his wand next. The wand was most likely to work and quickest. He wasn't sure that_ Avada Kedavra_ would work on him after the previous times though. If he used it, he would have to become inventive. It seemed the poison was the right way to go, to him.

Picking up the small vial, he uncorked it and downed the contents. His body seemed to feel numb and sluggish and he felt his heart slowing as he slid to the floor. He knew it wouldn't be long before he felt the sweet relief of death.

"Harry? Harry?" Harry heard his name as if it was being spoken under water. "What have you done?" was screamed at me. "Shit." All of this seemed to come from Hermione's voice, but Harry wasn't certain.

"Malfoy Manor," she shouted in panic into the fireplace. A house-elf must have answered her. "Draco Malfoy, and hurry," her voice came out in a choked sob as she pleaded, "please."

The little house-elf must have found him, because even in Harry's slowing mental state he heard his drawling voice asking, "What do you want, Granger? I'm still under house arrest and I cannot fathom you needing me for anything."

"It's Harry, please help. He's taken some poison and I don't know what it is. You're the only one I could think of that I knew that knows much about poisons, potions and the Black family," Hermione explained hurriedly. How did she know the poison was from the Black family? Oh, the label on the back of the vial must have been a clue, although as it was in Latin Harry had no idea what it said other than poison.

"Very well, what is it?" Draco asked in a resigned tone.

Harry found himself losing the battle of hearing what was going on in this form. Afterward was a complete out of body experience. He was looking on them and his own body. Hermione picked up the discarded potion bottle where she must have set it back on the table and handed it through the Floo. Draco hissed and even through the fireplace he turned a few shades paler. "Granger, you're going to have to bring his body through the Floo. Hopefully he'll follow or we won't get him and his soul back together," he explained and Harry was puzzled by the explanation.

Levitating Harry's body Hermione waited for Draco to sit back and called out, "Malfoy Manor," once again.

Narcissa Malfoy was in the room as well and paled when she saw Harry. "This is your chance at nullifying your life-debt, Draco. I hope you succeed," she spoke encouragingly.

Draco only nodded and commanded, "Follow me, Granger." Hermione scowled at the order, but did follow.

Narcissa looked at Harry sadly, the soul Harry, and whispered, "I hope you find something to live for." His only acknowledgment was a touch to her hand that made her shiver.

Harry quickly caught up to where his body was being carried. It appeared to be a potions lab, but exponentially larger than Snape's had been. "Lay him on the floor," Draco barked, looking exceedingly irritated. "What a stupid idiot."

"Hey, don't call him that. Harry is dying and all you have to say is that he's an idiot?" Hermione argued.

"He is. Who would take something when they didn't know what it was? Oh, I know. The same people that use curses that can kill on people when they don't know what it does. That sounds like an idiot to me," Draco accused. Harry smiled at that. At least there was someone that didn't want something out of him or wanted him to be someone he wasn't. Draco, his nemesis, knew what he was and wasn't capable of just like Harry did him.

"This little bottle of poison," Draco divulged, shaking it, "doesn't entirely kill the body. He's more closely in a coma, but perhaps worse. His soul has been separated from it, but he will never move on. He'll never become a ghost, he'll never see his family in death. He'll stay like this until he chooses to be reunited with himself. If he doesn't want to come back he won't and someone will have to do the honor of actually killing his body." Harry groaned. Draco was right, he was an idiot. He knew this wasn't the peaceful death he expected. Of course, with him, nothing was.

Draco started gathering bottles of potions. "We'll start with this first. This one is to release the poison from his body. It has to be done or else he'll be in the same state whenever his soul decides to join his body. Granger, that means you're on vomit duty," he informed her. Draco then lifted Harry's shirt and applied the potion directly over his stomach. It wasn't long before the poison was heaved up violently. Everyone grimaced, including soul Harry.

"For now, we wait," Draco said, sitting down on a workbench. "Do you even know why Potter would want to kill himself?" he asked, in confusion. "I have done everything I can to survive, so I'm not sure why Harry-who has so much to live for-would even try it." Harry shook his head. He didn't have anything to live for anymore.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and explained sadly, "I think the war just took so much out of him. His life has been about Voldemort and defeating him. What does he have to live for now? As far as he's concerned his duty is done and his life is over."

Draco was angry, no, enraged, and got up to kick Harry's body yelling, "If you weren't mostly dead right now I'd punch you, you ungrateful prick. The war is over, you survived, so did many of us. Not one of us has any more right to death than you. We all die, but you aren't supposed to get to chose when or how. I survived and on the wrong side and I don't plan to wallow in self-pity, not even under house arrest. There are still things to be done. Things you could change. Damn it, you could make more changes than anyone else with your name. But no... here you are, lying on a dirty floor, by your own choice and you didn't even manage to accomplish what you wanted." Draco's eyes were wild as he looked around the room searching for soul Harry and seemingly landing on him. "Do you hear me? Come back, you stupid git."

Harry didn't know how to go back or even if he wanted to yet. He might just let one of them make the decision to end his life once and for all. Although the way Draco talked it might not end the way he anticipated.

After a while, Hermione left and admonished, "Tell no one about this. At least not right now."

Draco nodded and called for a house-elf to take his body to a bedroom. He brought all the potions he needed with him as he walked through the manor. Harry looked around. It wasn't the same as he remembered. The feel was lighter as Voldemort was no longer there, but there were things conspicuously missing that had probably been destroyed or taken by war.

Finally, stopping in front of a door, Draco turned and looked him directly in the eye, "I know you're there, Harry. Hermione may not be able to see you, but I can. This will be your room while you want it to be. Mine is across the hall. You can visit if you like in this state, but please try to find something to live for." Harry nodded and they walked into the room. It was simple, while still retaining the elegance of the rest of the manor. Harry thought he might be happy here, at least for now.

Hermione visited, claiming that everyone thought Harry had gone into hiding. She told the papers he just wanted to be left alone and had no intention of joining the wizarding world for a while. That was good, as it gave Harry time to figure out what he wanted, if anything.

Harry followed Draco around the manor like a shadow. After a time he realized that both Draco and Narcissa could see and hear him. When he asked why, they explained it was because it was a Black family poison (and curse) and no one else would be able to if they weren't also a Black, ever. Did he want that?

Both Draco and Narcissa were lonely, Harry realized. They were under house arrest for a couple of years, staying out of Azkaban because of his testimony. Harry was their only company, except when Hermione came.

Eventually he'd fallen into a routine, as if he lived there in body. He sat down with them at dinner, even though he couldn't eat. Nutrient potions kept his body alive and hovering near death, but never quite keeping him healthy. His body deteriorated and Draco looked at him sadly as he washed him, "You were once so cute. I had a huge crush. If things had been different I would have fallen in love with you. You're stupidly, but also fearlessly brave. It's something I've never been."

"You would have fallen in love with me?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Draco nodded and affirmed, "Yes, I would have. It wouldn't matter if you were straight and married. What's not to love about you? Even your imperfections are lovable."

Harry had no idea what to say to that. He'd never been or even thought about being with another boy before, nor was he sure he ever wanted to be. "What's stopping you from loving me now?" Harry asked curiously. Why couldn't he be loved anyway? Draco was still able to see and talk to Harry.

"Because I can't. Right now, you're being a coward by not coming back together with your body and it's not something I can abide by. I am the only coward allowed in a relationship," Draco claimed seriously, but which only made Harry laugh.

"So if I was myself again you'd fall in love with me?" Harry pushed.

"Hmm... probably. I wouldn't want to, but I would, even if it's hopeless you'd ever want me back," Draco confirmed.

"You know if I do make it back to my body you are going to have to nurse me back to health," Harry remarked.

"Yeah, and also be a huge pain in your side to make you better. Come on, Harry, what's keeping you? I'd like to touch you and you touch me back, even if it's just a hug or a handshake. It's killing me a little every day watching you nearly give up on life. You've been here months and it will take months more to make you physically better. Will you try? For me? I know we weren't friends before, but it seems as if we are now and I want you to be here in the physical realm," Draco begged and attempted to touch Harry's cheek. His hand went right through and seemed to sadden him. Harry decided he'd like to see what it felt like to have his cheek touched for real. Whenever his body was touched he no longer felt it and he longed for that human contact again, almost as much as he had longed for death in the first place.

Nodding at Draco, Harry agreed, "I'll try, for you." He knew one day his end would come as it did to every person, but it didn't have to be today.


End file.
